Run #468 Celebrity Boxing; Gypsy Style.

Last Thursday found the Gypsies wreaking havoc at the wildlife refuge, how fitting, at Crissy Field. King Rongjon back from his diplomatic mission to Finland and Russia was on the wagon, never a pretty sight, and in the mood for someplace new. Exercise never being his favorite topic unless it involves elbow bending, which he was studiously avoiding, was of little interest to him so the trail was short and to the point. Six Of Nine, who changes his hair color more often than D’anglin Anglin changes his underwear, brought Two Tickets To Parathighs as meat for the communal pot. Hard as it is to believe that any woman associating with Six could be shocked by anything she seemed shocked by the Sacred Missal. Bigfoot, who couldn’t be shocked by a Taser, helped jump start the religious observance and once our visiting priestess got into the swing of things she performed well enough to have Just Doesn’t Get It and Bella, his pooch, escort her off to a dark and quiet place after the trail had been done. Enquiring minds would be interested in whether Just Doesn’t got it or does Para agree that bestiality is best? Having been purified in the flames of the Sacred Missal the pack was on-on into the Presidio. The King had painted a dire picture of the trail after the second check as one of broken bodies at best and warned all to beware. Just Charlene blanched at the thought of being lost and alone in a paradise for serial killers so chose to walk with the semi*unning Bigfoot as her protector. At the second check trail did indeed turn steep and dark as pavement was dispensed with and the trees closed around the pack. Just Pat, a serious *unner, was so overjoyed by the vicissitudes of the trail that he couldn’t resist stopping for a euphoric wank. Hairless Heaver, visiting from Fla., unfortunately stumbled on the act the sight of which had him living up to his name. Sorry son but you’re not in Kansas anymore. While all this was going on Whippet In and Whippet Out were on a serious search for PO as a gift for Tongueless and Fits In who decided to nip into the bushes and scratch another itch. How embarrassing for them to have tripped over Bag Lady and Dr. Kimble. Trails in the Presidio just seem to bring out the libido even in the likes of Chickless Boner who was noticed pushing aside leaves and probing the ground in search of shallow graves and perhaps the woman of his dreams. Is it any wonder that Chickless gets along so well with all the Gypsy dogs when they share such joy in rolling around on dead and rotting things? Trail eventually led back to the cliffs above Baker Beach and turned toward the bridge. Cruising down Lincoln Blvd. Tongueless, Fits In, and Drill Me found Scrotum wandering aimlessly. Having spotted them he dumped his auto and joined the trail. Sadly Bite Size mistook his enthusiasm at finding the lost patrol for a threat and before Drill Me could stop her….well there is some question as to Scrotum keeping his name. Speaking of names there seems to be some question as to whether Just Jim was named while he was *unning in Argentina, while he refuses to say what it might have been it’s likely to have been something like Obersturmbanfuhrer. As always the trail eventually ended and the pack regrouped with thoughts of the Sacred Bucket dancing through their heads. While Sea Breezes moved from Bucket to gullet those in mortal fear of PO made an effort to cleanse themselves. Open Wide made quite the spectacle as she doused herself in Technu and ran naked and screaming into the bay. Apparently she’d decided that hypothermia was better than PO or she just could have been looking forward to being rewarmed by Likes To Lick. The length of the trail and mild evening combined to encourage the copious flow of alcohol. The thought of so many DUIs waiting to happen sent Naked Hasher off faster than a chill in the air. McTaco’s was also an early departure but at least he had the decency to be carrying enough piss with him to give the CHP a fighting chance. Boulder Holder still looking for the voice she lost at Betty Ford was forced to spend the evening acting like a Marcel Marceau wannabe. Dickless Namehole was so drunk that he actually dropped a few coins down her dress, which she kept. The alcohol left Just Bruce so stiff that a very drunken Rhett Butthole mistook him for a tree and used him in a doglike fashion. Scarlett O’Hairy’s valiant efforts to correct Rhett’s mistake only compounded the problem when Just Bruce mistook her attempts at drying him for something of a more intimate nature and he lost control of yet another body function. Blackouts being what they are hopefully none of the participants will remember the event. At this point the Park Police decided to arrive. Realizing that the officer in question was female Tongueless quickly offered her a few untrammeled minutes in the back of her squad car with Davy Crock O’Shit who was so far into another universe that he had no idea how much he contributed to the Gypsies’ evening but being an athlete he still rose to the occasion. While the crowd was getting drunk or drunker as the case may be the King abjured doing down-downs but Bigfoot and Scrotum rolled over him like a Panzer in heat and emptied half the Bucket into cups. This led to a contretemps between a sober and surly King and a Bigfoot feeling her vodka over the need for down-downs and their length. If only Fox had been there to film it. Bigfoot was certainly dressed for the part in satin shorts that lacked only the Everlast logo. At this point Enter The Gerbil who had spent most of the evening waiting for a bus in Chinatown arrived and separated the combatants. Phone Sex offering her own inebriated opinion suggested that down-downs last as long as it would take the average male Gypsy to cum. Sadly it would hardly be worth the effort to have a circle lasting a nanosecond. Nutless Sac seemed very interested in finding out how to make it last that long, not very good advertising. This set off yet another debate over how long the average Gypsy male can maintain an erection with LCB and Shithead representing the long and the short of it. It was suggested that a returning Jackoff settle things by living up to his name but he chose discretion over valor. While the screaming and hair pulling continued the National Guard arrived complete with Hummer and M-16s. Tongueless was once again dispatched to work his magic and once again the forces of law and order left with smiling visages. The forces of anarchy and disorder continued to rule at the Final Final. Are you ready to rummmble? Cheers.